preach to them the mysteries of our holy religion, at which they were
much surprized, and said all they could to dissuade me from it. They
told me I would meet Indians who spare no strangers, and whom they
kill without any provocation or mercy; that the war they have one with
the other would expose me to be taken by their warriors, as they are
constantly on the look-out to surprize their enemies. That the Great
River[2] was exceedingly dangerous, and full of frightful monsters who
devoured men and canoes together, and that the heat was so great that
it would positively cause our death. I thanked them for their kind
advice, but told them I would not follow it, as the salvation of a
great many souls was concerned in our undertaking, for whom I should
be glad to lose my life, I added that I defied their monsters, and
their information would oblige us to keep more upon our guard to avoid
a surprize. And having prayed with them, and given them some
instructions, we set out for the Bay of Puan,[3] where our
missionaries had been successful in converting them.... The next day,
being the 10th of June, the two guides [Miamies] embarked with us in
sight of all the village, who were astonished at our attempting so
dangerous an expedition. We were informed that at three leagues from
the Maskoutens, we should find a river which runs into the
Mississippi, and that we were to go to the west-south-west to find
it, but there were so many marshes and lakes, that if it had not been
for our guides we could not have found it....
Before embarking we all offered up prayers to the Holy Virgin, which
we continued to do every morning, placing ourselves and the events of
the journey under her protection, and after having encouraged each
other, we got into our canoes. The river upon which we embarked is
called Mesconsin [Wisconsin]; the river is very wide, but the sand
bars make it very difficult to navigate, which is increased by
numerous islands covered with grape-vines. The country through which
it flows is beautiful; the groves are so dispersed in the prairies
that it makes a noble prospect; and the fruit of the trees shows a
fertile soil. These groves are full of walnut, oak, and other trees
unknown to us in Europe. We saw neither game nor fish, but roebuck and
buffaloes in great numbers. After having navigated thirty leagues we
discovered some iron mines, and one of our company who had seen such
mines before, said these were very rich in ore. They are covered with
about three feet of soil, and situate near a chain of rocks, whose
base is covered with fine timber. After having rowed ten leagues
farther, making forty leagues from the place where we had embarked, we
came into the Mississippi on the 17th of June [1673].[4]
The mouth of the Mesconsin [Wisconsin] is in about 42-1/2 N. lat.
Behold us, then, upon this celebrated river, whose singularities I
have attentively studied. The Mississippi takes its rise in several
lakes in the North. Its channel is very narrow at the mouth of the
Mesconsin, and runs south until it is affected by very high hills. Its
current is slow, because of its depth. In sounding we found nineteen
fathoms of water. A little further on it widens nearly three-quarters
of a league, and the width continues to be more equal. We slowly
followed its course to the south and southeast to the 42° N. lat. Here
we perceived the country change its appearance. There were scarcely
any more woods or mountains. The islands are covered with fine trees,
but we could could not see any more roebucks, buffaloes, bustards, and
swans. We met from time to time monstrous fish, which struck so
violently against our canoes, that at first we took them to be large
trees, which threatened to upset us. We saw also a hideous monster;
his head was like that of a tiger, his nose was sharp, and somewhat
resembled a wildcat; his beard was long; his ears stood upright; the
color of his head was gray; and his neck black. He looked upon us for
some time, but as we came near him our oars frightened him away. When
we threw our nets into the water we caught an abundance of sturgeons,
and another kind of fish like our trout, except that the eyes and nose
are much smaller, and they have near the nose a bone like a woman's
busk, three inches broad and a foot and a half long, the end of which
is flat and broad, and when it leaps out of the water the weight of it
throws it on its back.
Having descended the river as far as 41° 28', we found that turkeys
took the place of game, and the Pisikious that of other animals. We
called the Pisikious wild buffaloes, because they very much resemble
our domestic oxen; they are not so long, but twice as large. We shot
one of them, and it was as much as thirteen men could do to drag him
from the place where he fell....
We continued to descend the river, not knowing where we were going,
and having made an hundred leagues without seeing anything but wild
beasts and birds, and being on our guard we landed at night to make
our fire and prepare our repast, and then left the shore to anchor in
the river, while one of us watched by turns to prevent a surprize. We
went south and southwest until we found ourselves in about the
latitude of 40° and some minutes, having rowed more than sixty leagues
since we entered the river.
We took leave of our guides about the end of June, and embarked in
presence of all the village, who admired our birch canoes, as they had
never before seen anything like them. We descended the river, looking
for another called Pekitanoni [Missouri], which runs from the
northwest into the Mississippi....
As we were descending the river we saw high rocks with hideous
monsters painted on them, and upon which the bravest Indians dare not
look. They are as large as a calf, with head and horns like a goat;
their eyes red; beard like a tiger's; and a face like a man's. Their
tails are so long that they pass over their beads and between their
fore legs, under their belly, and ending like a fish's tail. They are
painted red, green, and black. They are so well drawn that I cannot
believe they were drawn by the Indians. And for what purpose they were
made seems to me a great mystery. As we fell down the river, and while
we were discoursing upon these monsters, we heard a great rushing and
bubbling of waters, and small islands of floating trees coming from
the mouth of the Pekitanoni [Missouri], with such rapidity that we
could not trust ourselves to go near it. The water of this river is so
muddy that we could not drink it. It so discolors the Mississippi as
to make the navigation of it dangerous. This river comes from the
northwest, and empties into the Mississippi, and on its banks are
situated a number of Indian villages. We judged by the compass, that
the Mississippi discharged itself into the Gulf of Mexico. It would,
however, have been more agreeable if it had discharged itself into the
South Sea or Gulf of California....
Having satisfied ourselves that the Gulf of Mexico was in latitude 31°
40', and that we could reach it in three or four days' journey from
the Akansea [Arkansas River], and that the Mississippi discharged
itself into it, and not to the eastward of the Cape of Florida, nor
into the California Sea, we resolved to return home. We considered
that the advantage of our travels would be altogether lost to our
nation if we fell into the hands of the Spaniards, from whom we could
expect no other treatment than death or slavery; besides, we saw that
we were not prepared to resist the Indians, the allies of the
Europeans, who continually infested the lower part of this river; we
therefore came to the conclusion to return, and make a report to those
who had sent us. So that having rested another day, we left the
village of the Akansea, on the seventeenth of July, 1673, having
followed the Mississippi from the latitude 42° to 34°, and preached
the Gospel to the utmost of my power, to the nations we visited. We
then ascended the Mississippi with great difficulty against the
current, and left it in the latitude of 38° north, to enter another
river [Illinois], which took us to the lake of the Illinois
[Michigan], which is a much shorter way than through the River
Mesconsin [Wisconsin], by which we entered the Mississippi....
[1] Father Marquette was born at Laon, in France, in 1637, and
died on the eastern shore of Lake Michigan in 1675. Marquette had
kept daily memoranda of his expedition, but during the return
voyage up the Mississippi his papers were lost. He afterward
composed from memory his narrative published under the title
"Travels and Discoveries in North America." It has been printed in
the "Historical Collections of Louisiana," and in Hart's "American
History Told by Contemporaries."
In this journey, occupying about four months, Marquette and Joliet
paddled their canoes more than 2,500 miles. It has been maintained
by some writers, and among them Mr. Thwaites, that Joliet and
Marquette were as much the real discoverers of the Mississippi as
Columbus was the discoverer of America. While Europeans had
actually reached the Mississippi before them, just as Asiatics and
Norwegians probably had reached America before Columbus, it was
Joliet and Marquette who first wrote narratives of their
expedition, prepared excellent maps, and were followed by others
who opened the region to enterprise and settlement. Of de Soto's
century-and-a-quarter earlier discovery, nothing came, while the
contention put forth for La Salle that he made an earlier visit
than Joliet and Marquette is based "on the merest surmise."
[2] The Mississippi.
[3] The arm of Lake Michigan, now called Green Bay.
[4] The town of Prairie du Chien lies just north of the confluence
of the Wisconsin and Mississippi rivers.
THE DEATH OF MARQUETTE
(1675)
BY FATHER CLAUDE DABLON[1]
Father James Marquette, having promised the Illinois, called
Kaskaskia, to return among them to teach them our mysteries, had great
difficulty in keeping his word. The great hardships of his first
voyage had brought on a dysentery, and had so enfeebled him that he
lost all hope of undertaking a second voyage. Yet, his malady having
given way and almost ceased toward the close of summer in the
following year, he obtained permission of his superiors to return to
the Illinois to found that noble mission....
After the Illinois had taken leave of the father, filled with a great
idea of the gospel, he continued his voyage, and soon after reached
the Illinois Lake, on which he had nearly a hundred leagues to make by
an unknown route, because he was obliged to take the southern
[eastern] side of the lake, having gone thither by the northern
[western]. His strength, however, failed so much that his men
despaired of being able to carry him alive to their journey's end;
for, in fact, he became so weak and exhausted that he could no longer
help himself, nor even stir, and had to be handled and carried like a
child....
The eve of his death, which was a Friday, he told them, all radiant
with joy, that it would take place on the morrow. During the whole day
he conversed with them about the manner of his burial, the way in
which he should be laid out, the place to be selected for his
interment; he told them how to arrange his hands, feet, and face, and
directed them to raise a cross over his grave. He even went so far as
to enjoin them, only three hours before he expired, to take his
chapel-bell, as soon as he was dead, and ring it while they carried
him to the grave. Of all this he spoke so calmly and collectedly that
you would have thought that he spoke of the death and burial of
another, and not of his own.
Thus did he speak with them as they sailed along the lake, till,
perceiving the mouth of a river with an eminence on the bank which he
thought suited for his burial, he told them that it was the place of
his last repose. They wished, however, to pass on, as the weather
permitted it and the day was not far advanced; but God raised a
contrary wind which obliged them to return and enter the river pointed
out by Father Marquette. They then carried him ashore, kindled a
little fire, and raised for him a wretched bark cabin, where they laid
him as little uncomfortably as they could; but they were so overcome
by sadness that, as they afterward said, they did not know what they
were doing.
The father being thus stretched on the shore, like Saint Francis
Xavier, as he had always so ardently desired, and left alone amid
those forests,--for his companions were engaged in unloading,--he had
leisure to repeat all the acts in which he had been employed during
the preceding days....
He had prayed his companions to remind him, when they saw him about to
expire, to pronounce frequently the names of Jesus and Mary. When he
could not do it himself, they did it for him; and, when they thought
him about to pass, one cried aloud, Jesus Maria, which he several
times repeated distinctly, and then, as if at those sacred names
something had appeared to him, he suddenly raised his eyes above his
crucifix, fixing them apparently on some object which he seemed to
regard with pleasure, and thus with a countenance all radiant with
smiles, he expired without a struggle, as gently as if he had sunk
into a quiet sleep.
His two poor companions, after shedding many tears over his body, and
having laid it out as he had directed, carried it devoutly to the
grave, ringing the bell according to his injunction, and raised a
large cross near it to serve as a mark for passers-by.
[1] From Dablon's "Relation." Dablon was the Superior General of
the Jesuit Missions in America.
DISCOVERY OF NIAGARA FALLS
(1678)
BY FATHER LOUIS HENNEPIN[1]
Betwixt the Lake Ontario and Erie, there is a vast and prodigious
cadence of water which falls down after a surprizing and astonishing
manner, insomuch that the universe does not afford its parallel. 'Tis
true, Italy and Suedeland boast of some such things; but we may well
say they are but sorry patterns, when compared to this of which we now
speak. At the foot of this horrible precipice, we meet with the river
Niagara, which is not above half a quarter of a league broad, but is
wonderfully deep in some places. It is so rapid above this descent,
that it violently hurries down the wild beasts while endeavoring to
pass it to feed on the other side, they not being able to withstand
the force of its current, which inevitably casts them down headlong
above six hundred foot.
This wonderful downfall is compounded of two great cross-streams of
water, and two falls, with an isle sloping along the middle of it. The
waters which fall from this vast height, do foam and boil after the
most hideous manner imaginable, making an outrageous noise, more
terrible than that of thunder; for when the wind blows from off the
south, their dismal roaring may be heard above fifteen leagues off.
The river Niagara having thrown itself down this incredible precipice,
continues its impetuous course for two leagues together, to the great
rock above mentioned, with an inexpressible rapidity: But having
passed that, its impetuosity relents, gliding along more gently for
two leagues, till it arrives at the Lake Ontario, or Frontenac.
Any bark or greater vessel may pass from the fort to the foot of this
huge rock above mentioned. This rock lies to the westward, and is cut
off from the land by the river Niagara, about two leagues farther down
than the great fall; for which two leagues the people are obliged to
carry their goods over-land; but the way is very good, and the trees
are but few, and they chiefly firs and oaks.
From the great fall unto this rock, which is to the west of the river,
the two brinks of it are so prodigious high, that it would make one
tremble to look steadily upon the water, rolling along with a rapidity
not to be imagined. Were it not for this vast cataract, which
interrupts navigation, they might sail with barks or greater vessels,
above four hundred and fifty leagues further, cross the Lake of
Hurons, and up to the farther end of the Lake Illinois (Michigan);
which two lakes we may well say are little seas of fresh water.
[1] Louis Hennepin, born in Belgium in 1640, was a friar of the
Recollect order, an offshoot of the Franciscans. Mr. Thwaites, who
has edited Hennepin's "New Discovery of a Vast Country," from
which the account of Niagara Falls here given is taken, describes
him as "an uneasy soul, uncontent to remain cloistered and
fretting to engage in travel and wild adventure." After the
pioneer voyage down the Mississippi, made by Joliet and Marquette,
had become known in Europe, it intensified an already active
spirit of discovery. In the summer of 1678 Hennepin joined La
Salle and Laval Montmorency in the famous expedition of La Salle
undertaken from Quebec to explore the interior, with a view to
uniting Canada with the Gulf of Mexico by a chain of forts. On
arrival in Quebec Father Hennepin was sent forward by La Salle to
Fort Frontenac, on Lake Ontario. Thence, with La Monte and sixteen
men, he went on to Niagara in order to smooth the way with the
Indians for La Salle's later coming. It was at this time that
Hennepin first saw Niagara Falls. White men had probably seen the
cataract before, but he is the first who wrote a description of it
that has come down to us. Hennepin's character has been severely
criticized. He was much given to exaggeration, and he magnified
his own importance. Mr. Thwaites describes him as "hardy, brave
and enterprising," but "lacking in spiritual qualities."
Hennepin's estimate of the height of the falls (about 600 feet)
may be cited as an example of his faculty in exaggeration. The
actual height is 167 feet. The descent from Lake Erie to Ontario,
including that of the rapids above and below the falls, is only
330 feet.
LA SALLE'S VOYAGE TO THE MOUTH OF THE MISSISSIPPI
(1682)
BY FRANCIS PARKMAN[1]
La Salle chose eighteen of his Indian allies, whom he added to the
twenty-three Frenchmen who remained with him, some of the rest having
deserted, and others lagged behind. The Indians insisted on taking
their squaws with them. These were ten in number, besides three
children; and thus the expedition included fifty-four persons, of whom
some were useless, and others a burden.
On the 21st of December, Tonty and Membré set out from Fort Miami with
some of the party in six canoes, and crossed to the little river
Chicago. La Salle, with the rest of the men, joined them a few days
later. It was the dead of winter, and the streams were frozen. They
made sledges, placed on them the canoes, the baggage, and a disabled
Frenchman; crossed from the Chicago to the northern branch of the
Illinois, and filed in a long procession down its frozen course. They
reached the site of the great Illinois village, found it tenantless,
and continued their journey, still dragging their canoes, till at
length they reached open water below Lake Peoria.
La Salle had abandoned for a time his original plan of building a
vessel for the navigation of the Mississippi. Bitter experience[2] had
taught him the difficulty of the attempt, and he resolved to trust to
his canoes alone. They embarked again, floating prosperously down
between the leafless forests that flanked the tranquil river; till, on
the sixth of February, they issued upon the majestic bosom of the
Mississippi. Here, for the time, their progress was stopt; for the
river was full of floating ice. La Salle's Indians, too, had lagged
behind; but, within a week, all had arrived, the navigation was once
more free, and they resumed their course. Toward evening, they saw on
their right the mouth of a great river; and the clear current was
invaded by the headlong torrent of the Missouri, opaque with mud. They
built their camp-fires in the neighboring forests; and at daylight,
embarking anew on the dark and mighty stream, drifted swiftly down
toward unknown destinies. They passed a deserted town of the Tamaroas;
saw, three days after, the mouth of the Ohio; and, gliding by the
wastes of bordering swamp, landed on the twenty-fourth of February
near the Third Chickasaw Bluffs. They encamped, and the hunters went
out for game. All returned, excepting Pierre Prudhomme; and, as the
others had seen fresh tracks of Indians, La Salle feared that he was
killed. While some of his followers built a small stockade fort on a
high bluff by the river, others ranged the woods in pursuit of the
missing hunter. After six days of ceaseless and fruitless search, they
met two Chickasaw Indians in the forest; and, through them, La Salle
sent presents and peace-messages to that warlike people, whose
villages were a few days' journey distant. Several days later,
Prudhomme was found, and brought in to the camp, half-dead. He had
lost his way while hunting; and, to console him for his woes, La Salle
christened the newly-built fort with his name, and left him, with a
few others, in charge of it.
Again they embarked; and, with every stage of their adventurous
progress, the mystery of this vast New World was more and more
unveiled. More and more they entered the realms of spring. The hazy
sunlight, the warm and drowsy air, the tender foliage, the opening
flowers, betokened the reviving life of Nature. For several days more
they followed the writhings of the great river, on its tortuous course
through wastes of swamp and canebrake, till on the thirteenth of March
they found themselves wrapt in a thick fog. Neither shore was visible;
but they heard on the right the booming of an Indian drum and the
shrill outcries of the war-dance. La Salle at once crossed to the
opposite side, where, in less than an hour, his men threw up a rude
fort of felled trees. Meanwhile, the fog cleared; and, from the
farther bank, the astonished Indians saw the strange visitors at their
work. Some of the French advanced to the edge of the water, and
beckoned them to come over. Several of them approached, in a wooden
canoe, to within the distance of a gun-shot. La Salle displayed the
calumet, and sent a Frenchman to meet them. He was well received; and,
the friendly mood of the Indians being now apparent, the whole party
crossed the river.
On landing, they found themselves at a town of the Kappa band of the
Arkansas, a people dwelling near the mouth of the river which bears
their name. "The whole village," writes Membré to his superior, "came
down to the shore to meet us, except the women, who had run off. I
cannot tell you the civility and kindness we received from these
barbarians, who brought us poles to make huts, supplied us with
firewood during the three days we were among them, and took turns in
feasting us. We did not lose the value of a pin while we were among
them." ...
After touching at several other towns of this people, the voyagers
resumed their course, guided by two of the Arkansas; passed the sites,
since become historic, of Vicksburg and Grand Gulf; and, about three
hundred miles below the Arkansas, stopt by the edge of a swamp on the
western side of the river. Here, as their two guides told them, was
the path to the great town of the Taensas. Tonty and Membré were sent
to visit it. They and their men shouldered their birch canoe through
the swamp, and launched it on a lake which had once formed a portion
of the channel of the river.